Flutter
by galacticly
Summary: Who would have guessed the grim reaper was a seventeen year old girl? The answer you're looking for is no one. Not a single fucking soul. Who would have guessed a small Indian reservation was the breeding grounds for werewolves? The answer you're looking for is no one. Not a single fucking soul. Paul/OC.
1. Chapter I: Lonely Wolf & Sad Reaper

_**Flutter.**_

* * *

 _"Did it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine? Did you fall for the same empty answers again?"_ _ **-Exile Vilify, The National**_

 **Chapter I: The Lonely Wolf & The Sad Reaper.**

Who would have guessed the grim reaper was a seventeen year old girl? The answer you're looking for is no one. Not a single fucking soul. Sunny (a completely appropriate name for the angel of death herself) sat at the kitchen table while her mother rubbed soothing circles into her back and her father set down a steaming cup of tea in front of her. No, she was not the product of Satan and Medusa. In fact she hadn't really even been born. She had materialized into existence as an infant, and been placed on the doorstep of an unsuspecting couple and they'd taken her in, read the terms and conditions paper she'd come with, and decided to keep her.

Her parents - Bonnie and Clark - were, needless to say, a little insane. Bonnie, her mother, worked in nuclear science and Clark owned a petting zoo. Bonnie was the equivalent of a mad scientist and Clark was crazy about farm animals. It was no doubt their questionable sanities had brought them together; together, and brought them to the decision to raise the angel of death. The idea probably wouldn't have sounded too inviting anyone else.

"Sun, I'm sure you can take a day off of work. Let that mind of yours rest." Clark said sympathetically, sitting down across from her. He folded his hands in front of him and gave her the pitying look that most aging and dying barn cats received.

Barn cats in which _she_ always had to bury, by the way. And pass their soul on. But, you know. It was a part the perks of being the grim reaper. "I can't take a day off," she attempted to keep her voice level, "I live in my workspace. I can't just stop a subconscious action." Her workspace, being her mind. One would have supposed that the grim reaper would live somewhere _other_ than the physical world, but unfortunately whoever had created this damned universe had decided otherwise. Sunny's mind was in a constant state of movement, emotions that were not her own whipping through her thoughts. Sorrow, anger, resent, peace, joy - you name it, and she had felt it. The deepest pits of hell rested in the planes of her subconscious, as well as the gates of heaven, and it was up to her to determine which threshold was passed. For every soul. For all of the millions dying each day. They were all whizzed over continents and states and dimensions, and into her head. Life was just great.

"Well...you seem to be getting better at it! You don't sit in your room all day staring out your window anymore." Bonnie chirped hopefully. Sunny rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. _Why couldn't I have been some etheral being? Like God or something?,_ she thought miserably. Of course her human body had grown emotionally attached to her parents, but her true self - the true, real reaper - saw them as a couple of walking corpses. Clark had maybe fifteen to twenty years left while Bonnie had about ten. If she hadn't been stuck inside of this stupid body with its stupid needs and wants that wouldn't have bothered her like it oh so did.

"Speaking of that," Sunny rose from her spot, brushing off her mother's touch and leaving the cup of tea her father had brewed for her steaming on the table, "I think I'll head up to my room." _Don't bother me. Please._ She passed out of the kitchen and into the living room, where she ascended the stairs. On the way to her room - at the very back of the hallway - she stopped by the bathroom, grabbing a bottle of painkillers before continuing.

She locked her door behind her and downed about four tablets dry. The thing about your mind never shutting up was that it came with horrible, dreadful migraines. She set the bottle down on her desk and gently perched herself on the window seat that resided under the only window in her room. She glanced around her room, and each time she looked at it, it seemed more and more surreal. It had been this way ever since she was a child - though she felt no less different than her six years old self. The only thing that had changed was her body. Even her room had remained the same - dull and simple; mahogany floorboards decorated with a simple black carpet and a desk pushed into the corner by the door. Her bed was only a mattress, bare of sheets and blankets and pillows. She rarely slept on it. She opted for the window seat, where she spent most of her time anyway. It made sense to sleep on it. It was about as comfortable as the bed.

Sunny let out a sigh and pushed a lock of black hair out of her face. She settled against the wall and brought her knees up to her chest, encircling her arms around them and letting her chin rest atop them. Bonnie would have been dismayed at the way she gazed out the window. _If you had wanted a normal child,_ Sunny thought bitterly to herself, _maybe you should have thought that through before you invited death into your home._

A bitter sadness rose in Sunny's throat.

* * *

Who would have guessed a small Indian reservation was the breeding grounds for werewolves? The answer you're looking for is no one. Not a single fucking soul. Paul stared up at the popcorn ceiling in Sam's house with his feet kicked up on the arm of the couch, wondering why sleep hadn't clawed up to claim him yet. He certainly felt tired; he had run patrol all night long with Seth prattling on and on about God knows what. He should've been asleep. He knew it.

"Paul," he didn't move from his spot or look in the direction the voice had come from. "We're ordering takeout for dinner. You want your usual?" _Well that's a stupid fucking question. Of course I want my usual._

"Yeah." Replied Paul.

"What are you doing?"

"Sleeping."

"Clearly, you're not sleeping."

"Shut the fuck up, Leah."

The female wolf scoffed and decided to see her way out of the situation before things got ugly. Paul was never in a good mood and he knew it, took pride in it, and rubbed it in everyone's face. It was his _thing._ Ever since he had first joined the Pack he had been known as the one in the worst mood possible at all times, and Paul clung to it like a raft in a choppy sea.

After a few more minutes of lying down and staring at the ceiling, Paul finally gave up on sleep and sat up. The world wavered around him, making if feel surreal and whimsical. He hadn't slept in weeks, he realized. He couldn't remember the last time he had closed his eyes, felt the blackness, and then awoke to light filtering in through the windows. Everything just morphed together, one huge gaping consciousness that constantly poked him in the cheek, reminding him of how tired he was and how unable he was to sleep. _Insomnia,_ said a passing thought, but he ignored it and stood up.

Perhaps there was something in the kitchen waiting for him. Takeout usually took about twenty minutes, and knowing Leah, she hadn't even gotten around to ordering the stuff yet. He hated her.

Walking through the dining room - past a game of chess between Sam and Jared - and into the kitchen, Paul opened the fridge and peered inside. There was a leftover steak in a styrofoam box, and since there was no name bolded in sharpy written on it, he took the liberty of grabbing it out and throwing the box away. He bit into the cold meat and didn't taste anything. He stared out the window; it was raining.

For what felt like the millionth time Paul recognized that he hated being a werewolf. He hated the boiling rage that always sat beneath the surface of his skin and he hated the heat, the way he could never truly cool down and he absolutely fucking _hated_ sharing a mind with fifteen, twenty, thirty - how ever many more idiots there were now. He hated it. He wanted nothing more than to pick up and leave and taste solitude again, because it had been so, so long since he had spent more than three hours alone. What was it like to be alone? He couldn't tell you. He was constantly surrounded by people and talking and movement.

And why couldn't he sleep? It was like someone had flipped a switch and turned off slumber. No matter how tired he was or how many sleeping pills he took he couldn't close his eyes without thoughts filling his eyelids like images drawn to a projection screen. He just wanted to clock out; kick the bucket for a few hours; hell, he could settle for a dream or two. But he was stuck with this endless stream of reality and loneliness and hatred and fuck, couldn't he just catch a break for once in his life?

The word loneliness drifted through him like a gentle breeze. The sound it made was hollow and empty. He dropped the bare steak bone in the garbage can and leaned against the counter, gazing out into the hazy, rainy day and wondering why the universe had chosen to put him here; why it had chosen to make him so unhappy. He could no longer remember the sweet days of his childhood which had surely been filled with sunny beach days and laughter and joy. He could barely recall his mother's smiling face, and his father's warm and sure grip that had steadied him. Now, his memories were filled with tearing apart bloodthirsty stone creatures and endless patrols and sad, gloomy days such as this one. Did he even have a life outside of the pack?

A deep scowl formed on his face as he answered his own question. _No._

Loneliness crawled up Paul's spine and gripped his throat.

* * *

 **A/n:** I have no business starting a story while I have another one running but this idea grabbed me and ran. I'm not too sure when and if I'll update this again, but I felt pretty good about putting it out there.

Reviews are appreciated!


	2. Chapter II: Grocery Store Enigmas

_**Flutter.**_

* * *

 _"Open up your murder eyes; see the ugly world that spat you out"_ _ **-Temple Grandin, Andrew Jackson Jihad**_

 **Chapter II: Grocery Store Enigmas.**

The grim reaper wanders down the dairy aisle, debating whether she should get skim or whole. It sounds like the opening to some bad joke. The punchline would probably go along the lines of: _'well, everyone dies, so she just grabbed both!'_. Sunny was reminded how dreadfully bad she was at jokes and reprimanded herself bemusedly. The real joke here lay in the domestic clothing she wore and the domestic tasks she did. She was a wolf in sheep's clothing and it was the best goddamn costume anyone had ever seen.

Sunny scoffed.

A woman scooted past her and the number forty-two flashed through Sunny's mind and gave cause to a weary sigh. _She already looks old,_ death mused sullenly, _she's probably got two, maybe three years left. Huh. Sad._ Although it wasn't that sad - not to Sunny, anyway. It was impulsive and human to sympathize with death and even seventeen years in, she couldn't kick the habit. She shrugged the small remorse away and opened the freezer door and grabbed the skim milk.

A wheel on her cart was faulty and refused to turn left, so Sunny had to fight it when she turned into the bakery. It made a horrible scraping sound as she dragged it across the linoleum floor and drew the attention of a young girl and her mother standing at the produce. _Sixty five, twenty four._ Sunny continued on like nothing had happened and grabbed a loaf of freshly baked white mountainback bread. It was Clark's favorite, and she didn't mind it herself.

She grabbed a couple more items before making her way to the self-checkout line and paying with Bonnie's debit card. It was easier to avoid the reflex sadness when she didn't have to be around people; nothing ruined Sunny's day more than the self-checkout being closed, but fortunately enough in this situation, the universe had decided it didn't want to make her any more miserable than she already was - what, with existing and all.

She ditched the wobbly cart and walked out into the light rain. The sky was overcast, as per usual, and the weight of the groceries was a little too heavy, as per usual, and her mazda was sitting in the same parking spot it always did, as per usual, and there was a large, shirtless man leaning over her trunk, as per -

Wait a second. Nearly dropping the groceries, Sunny rushed forward towards her mazda and the large man, panic flooding her like a dam had been broken. "Hey!" She yelled, catching his attention. His face was chiseled and he wore a scowl that would've scared just about any wild bears in the area away. His eyes were deep and dark and full of sorrow and anger and his muscular body was taut with tension and Sunny kept looking at him and looking at him and _looking at him_ because something was missing all of a sudden. It was like walking down the stairs and missing a step. "What are you..." her question died on her lips as she realized what was missing.

"The sticker." The man's nonchalant tone did not match his scowl.

Sunny, shell shocked, brought her stiff gaze to the sticker that rested on the bottom left corner of her back window. _'I used up all my sick days, so I called in DEAD'._ Bonnie had bought it for her as a sick joke, in an attempt to appeal to Sunny's sense of humor. It hadn't worked but to please the woman, she had stuck it on her car anyway. Now it felt stupid to have it there, as she stood before this enigma of a human being.

He had no number.

The only other person she knew who didn't have a number was herself.

Popping her trunk, she threw her groceries in and slammed it. She turned to him, suddenly filled with rage. "Who are you?" She demanded. This wasn't supposed to happen; she was supposed to live the rest of her existence knowing everyone's numbers and passing on their souls when the time came and living and living and living until the universe decided she was done. How fucking _dare_ he get in the way of that.

"Paul." His tone had grown menacing as he had picked up on her anger. Suddenly, Sunny realized just how much bigger he was than her and realized how much that scared her. This man could scare away lions and tigers and bears, and apparently, even death itself. _When was the last time I felt genuinely scared?,_ she thought, _this is probably a first, come to think of it. Definitely a first._

But she was too deep in her cause to quit. "Well, _Paul,"_ she sneered, feigning disgust, "you can't just read someone else's things and expect them not to get angry. I have half a mind to call the police on you!" She sounded just like Bonnie, which equated to sounding ridiculous. However Sunny couldn't yell at him for the real reason she was angry because only three people in the entire world knew who Death was and she was included in that trio, and it was in the _terms and conditions_ that it stay that way. The universe didn't need a cosmic uprising, after all.

"I'll read whatever I wanna fucking read!" Paul argued back, just as fiery.

Sunny wanted to get in her car and punch the gas as hard as she could. She wanted to get away from this terrifying enigma of a person and the instability of this entire situation and she wanted some painkillers because her constant migraine had grown worse since she entered the grocery store and she wanted true and peaceful quietness because the world had never given her a gift so beautiful. Suddenly her rage melted away and the same sympathy that twinged each time a number rolled through her mind as she looked at this man and an apology rolled off her lips before she could even attempt to stop it.

"What?" Paul's scowl lifted and genuine confusion replaced it.

"I'm...sorry. I have to go." She pushed past him, making a hasty getaway to her car door. Her fingers were just about to wrap around the handle when a burning hand wrapped around her wrist.

"Are you okay?"

 _That's a dumb question,_ she thought. When had she ever been okay? She could remember lying in her crib as an infant, void of the ability to speak or move on her own, and wondering why she had been put into this lonely existence. And now, here she was again, staring into the dark, burning eyes of a stranger and pondering the same question that had plagued her for the whole of her existence: _why?_

 _Why, why, whywhywhywhy_ \- she had asked herself this question so many times it blurred together and became one word over and over and over again. She could see the question in the irises of this man, where no number resided and she could taste the tip of silence in her mind and was suddenly driven to know this man.

The sadness died on the tip of her tongue and it's corpse evaporated.

"I'm - yeah. I'm okay."

"You're sure?"

"No, but who is?"

The lonely breeze flowing through Paul suddenly halted and dissipated.

* * *

 **A/n:** Well, I updated this a lot faster than I meant to. Which is good for those who like this story and bad for me. This is going to be a project I spend a lot of time on and probably take up a lot of time in which I could be spending working on my summer assignment. But - oh well!

Reviews are appreciated!


	3. Chapter III: It's Five AM Somewhere

_**Flutter.**_

* * *

 _"Two headed boy, there is no reason to grieve. The world that you need is wrapped in gold silver sleeves"_ _ **-Two Headed Boy, Neutral Milk Hotel**_

 **Chapter III: It's Five AM Somewhere.**

Sunny sat in her window seat staring out the window again. It was five a.m. and sleep had eluded her despite slipping down several painkillers. Although, she wasn't sure why she longed for sleep anyway; it was filled with noise and emotions and less places to turn to distract herself. She supposed it was only necessary for her human body.

Numbers flashed through her mind with faces painted behind them. There was only one blank space, and it haunted her; the blank space that resembled the deep blackness of Paul's burning eyes and the terrifying scowl that marred his chiseled face and the way his warm hand had grasped her wrist. The sadness had died in her for the slightest moment that day and she could still taste the smallest freedom from it.

 _I have to find him again,_ she kept telling herself. She had to find him, because he was the strangest person she had ever met and he had inspired a feeling she had never once truly felt in her entire life. She couldn't imagine going her entire existence without seeing him at least once, and that both terrified her and excited her to no end. The universe had made a bad call by putting Death in the body of a human because even as Sunny was overwhelmed with the intense need to see this man again she was acutely aware of how human and how stupid it was. The grim reaper wasn't supposed to fall in love; the grim reaper wasn't supposed to have a normal, real relationship with anyone because they all ended up dying anyway. There was no point, she told herself, except -

He had no number.

With a twist of sick joy and anger, she told herself that she just wanted to know why he didn't have a number. Every last living soul passing the gates through heaven and hell knew that wasn't true, but it was the only thing that would keep Sunny going. She wanted to indulge in this intensely human feeling rolling around in her gut.

And who was going to stop her? Nobody could stop Death.

* * *

It was around five a.m. and it was Paul's night off and he still hadn't slept. He flipped through the channels on Sam's little television screen listlessly, more out of habit than anything. Three days had passed since his meeting with Sunny, the strange girl from the grocery store in Olympia. _She has some serious fucking issues,_ Paul seethed silently, but a quiet voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he did too. He scoffed at himself and dropped the remote on the floor, giving up on finding anything worth watching.

He rolled on to his back and found himself staring at the ceiling again. How many times had he counted the popcorn? _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight..._

He knew there were ten thousand popcorns in just the spot over the couch. He had counted them so many times the number was ingrained in his head. But he counted each night he lay awake just to make sure; in a strange way it kept him grounded. When he laid down on this couch in this room in this house with day fading to night he often forgot that this was his reality. It became a raft floating through the sea and he was the lone survivor, and suddenly the pack faded away and the suffocating sadness drifted from his heart and he could feel his loneliness roaring inside of him like a great hurricane. It whispered through the hollows of his rib cage.

Suddenly, the front door squeaked as it opened and Paul instantly knew it was Seth. Seth, who talked too much and loved too hard and refused to defend his sister; he tiptoed through the dining room and into the living room, stopping as his eyes found Paul lying across the sofa. "Awh, dude. I was really looking forward to sleeping there tonight."

Paul looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Go home, Seth. Your mom is probably waiting up for you."

Seth, the thoughtless teenage boy, rolled his eyes. "Leah'll probably go home tonight, and I don't want to be there when that happens. She's been such a -"

Paul hated Leah, but he hated Seth more. "She's your sister, you idiot. Don't call her that."

The young wolf scoffed, coming to sit down against the side of the couch. His shoulder brushed against Paul's arm. "Everyone else does. Why does she even hang around here anymore, anyway? She joined Jake's pack. I wish she'd pick." Paul wished she'd pick too, but if she chose there and not here he would have one less person to hate. He didn't understand why that made him angry.

"Maybe you should pick, Seth. You're always going over to the Cullens' place."

"Edward is cool! He's not like all the other vampires."

"How many have you had the opportunity to sit down and have a conversation with?"

Seth answered with silence. Paul smirked to himself, savoring the small victory. If he couldn't win the war, he might as well win a couple battles.

"Hey, Paul?" Seth's voiced curiously, and Paul groaned internally.

"What do you want? I'm trying to sleep." He lied. He had given up on trying to sleep about a week ago and had resorted to seeing how far he could push himself on approximately zero hours of sleep. He'd take up extra patrol hours and run to Olympia and back and there and back and there and back. He had stopped just once to grab a can of soda at a grocery store. He tried not to remember the chance meeting with the strange girl.

"Do you think you'll ever imprint?"

"Get the fuck outta here with that shit, Seth. I don't want to talk about that."

"No, seriously! Do you think you ever will?"

Paul seethed. "No."

"You don't really believe that," Seth had picked up a condescending tone and Paul was hoping he'd put it back down if he wanted to live for a few more minutes.

"Yeah, I do. Now go find somewhere else to hang out. You're bothering me." Paul rolled on to his side so that he faced the back of the couch. He heard Seth sigh and rise, and waited until his footsteps were gone up the stairs to roll back on to his back again. The silence was comforting and deafening all at once.

His thoughts drifted back to the girl from the grocery store parking lot and a strange lump rose in his throat. He clearly remembered the feeling he had gotten when he had looked into her eyes, the feeling of being not so alone in a world filled with people he hated; her dark eyes had been sad and solemn and had reminded him so much of his own when he glanced in the mirror. She had left a few minutes later, and he had watched her mazda leave. The loneliness had returned on his way back to La Push.

There was an itching urge to go back to Olympia and look for her, but he fought it. _No fucking way,_ he told himself, _am I going to find someone I don't hate._ The thought didn't strike him as strange until a moment later when he reflected. Was he so wounded and curled in on himself that he wouldn't even attempt to meet someone who had silenced the storm in his heart?

 _Yes._

 _Yes I am._

Paul began counting the popcorns once again. _One, two, three, four..._

* * *

 **A/n:** Okay, so I realize that I fucked up the canon a little. But that's alright! This is fanfiction. Seth never joined Jacob's pack and that's completely alright. Anyway, however, I was actually surprised that I got more than one review on this story. I posted it impulsively (my lack of impulse control can be kinda annoying) and never really expected to update it, but surprise, I've written two chapters in the last twenty-four hours and posted them in the same amount of time.

A writer's whims can never be pleased.

Reviews are appreciated!


	4. Chapter IV: Cinderella Left Both Shoes

_**Flutter.**_

* * *

 _"Funny what you think of after a collapse. While lying in the dirt the first thing that comes back is never quite what you'd have guessed - and if you could have, you probably would've said you'd check if all your limbs were intact still and try to get out" -_ _ **For Mayor in Splitsville, La Dispute.**_

 **Chapter IV: Cinderella Left Both Shoes.**

Somebody was following him. Their presence pressed against his back and their stare was beginning to burn a hole in the back of his head. The blackness of the night poured into the sky, leaving only the stars and moon for illumination on the long stretch of a dirt path that led back to Sam's. Paul had been considering doubling back towards his own home for the night, opting for a more silent sleepless night, but that's when he realized that someone was behind him.

Paul - the great, the fearless, the cruel, was too scared to turn around.

His heart was hammering hard against his ribcage, however, he kept his pace steady enough and gentle enough to still hear the unmistakeable echo of another pair of feet. _This is stupid,_ Paul growled to himself, _I'll rip this guy to shreds if he tries anything. Why the fuck should I be scared?_ The wolf tried to will himself to turn and face his stalker but a deep, daunting feeling in his gut prevented him. He began to grit his teeth and his fists clenched involuntarily.

"Who the fuck are you?" He spat out over his shoulder, only catching sight of their black silhouette.

No reply.

"Who the _fuck_ are you?" Paul tried again, this time an animalistic growl ripping through his clenched teeth. A detached part of him, gazing into his conscious through objective eyes, realized that his anger had less to do with the person following him and more to do with his crumbling life. He was frustrated; he couldn't sleep, he couldn't enjoy eating, and he hated everything. He may have seemed like it, but he didn't _like_ hating everything. And he certainly didn't like his lack of sleep and tasteless meals. This part of him acknowledged that there was something deeply, truly wrong with the wolf. Deep purple smudges marked the skin beneath his eyes and maimed his chiseled face, aged with fatigue and rage. He hadn't had a real conversation with anyone in weeks and it was wearing down on him, no matter how resilient he claimed to be against it all.

The world was roaring in his ears and the fear in his veins was replaced with pure adrenaline and anger and he whipped around, ready to lunge and destroy -

There was no one there.

The footsteps had died away and silence whistled on the wind that flowed through the surrounding trees, ruffling the leaves with a papery sort of sound. Paul was equal parts confused and mad, especially so, when he noticed there were two beat up sneakers facing him.

 _I'm losing my mind,_ Paul thought with a sigh. He ran his hands over his face and shook his head before turning, and walking away. He would suffer through another night at Sam's. He would never admit it to himself, but he was too scared to walk back to his place. He was shaken to his core and suddenly, he felt more alert than he had in a week.

The sneakers watched him depart.

* * *

Sunny ignored the pounding in her head as she wandered through the aisles of the grocery store. She gave the products lining the shelves nothing more than a cursory glance; her real objective was roughly six foot five and could scare the devil back into the deepest pits of hell. She'd been in the cereal aisle for almost twenty minutes.

"Ma'am," _Forty-seven._

She dragged her gaze to the acne-ridden boy wearing a red vest. It occurred to her that he probably worked here. She tilted her head, "Yes?"

"If you aren't going to buy anything, you can't loiter here."

"I'm going to buy something."

"You are _incredibly_ indecisive then, aren't you?"

She didn't like his tone. _You're talking to Death, you little shit,_ she hissed at him through her calm demeanor. Reaching out, she grabbed a box of bran. flakes and clutched it to her chest. "I just decided on these, just as you walked up." She said, giving him a quick once over. He was probably in his late teens to early twenties; he, unfortunately, had a little longer to live.

"Hm. Well, if that's all, then I'll ring you up at the counter."

She followed him reluctantly. _Twenty nine. Fifty. Ninety-seven._

Jeremy - or, that's what his name tag read - rang Sunny up and handed her the box of bran flakes with a brow arched. She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if she had the power to kill yet. As he continued to stare back with growing discomfort, she sighed inwardly. _No, not yet._

She left the store with a heavy heart and a box of bran flakes. When she climbed into her mazda, she sat there for a long moment, staring at her sad box of cereal and wondering if she would ever see Paul again.

* * *

 **A/n:** Sorry I took a little while to post this. Life kinda gets in the way sometimes.

Reviews are greatly appreciated and serve as inspiration to continue this story! :)


	5. Chapter V: A Wolf At Death's Doorstep

_**Flutter.**_

* * *

 _"Lightning bolt, oh lightning bolt, why won't you strike them down? For what they did they deserve to be a black spot on the ground. And if there is a God living up there in the clouds, I can't imagine a better time to show his wrath than now"_ _ **-Lightning Bolt, Ghost Mice.**_

 **Chapter V: A Wolf At Death's Doorstep.**

The overcast skies had grown weary over Sunny and she felt miserable; more miserable than usual, that is. It'd been over three weeks and all she had managed was to get kicked out of the grocery store an innumerable amount of times. She and Jeremy had become well acquainted enemies. She didn't care about any of this, however - she would keep going back until she found Paul again. She didn't care if she got banned. She wanted to find her enigma so badly it hurt.

She let out a sigh and slumped against the wall, letting her head rest against the cool window pane. Her window seat had become increasingly messy; Bonnie's laptop was strewn on top of a mound of blankets along with a plethora of papers, filled with thoughts and disconcerted scrawlings. Empty plates had began piling up on the floor beside the little niche, and Sunny knew Clark was getting aggravated at the mess she had become but she never expected him to understand the strifes of being Death stuck in a teenage girl's body.

Almost as if her thoughts had been read, there was a knock on the door and it cracked open to reveal Clark's face. It was pulled into a grimace, though he was doing his best to disguise it with a smile. "Hey, Sun," he said, "are you coming to dinner with us? We're headed to that little Italian place down by-"

"No, I'm okay. Thank you."

There was a twinge of guilt as his face fell and Sunny was once again reminded of how human she was sometimes. She plastered on a smile that she was sure didn't reach her eyes and shrugged, "I'll catch it next time. Promise." An itch of dread began in the pit of her stomach as she committed herself to the plan; she hated going out in public. It was too noisy.

This seemed to pacify the petting zoo owner and he nodded with a more genuine smile this time. "Sounds good, kiddo." He shut the door behind him as he left, once again leaving Sunny to her thoughts.

The rain pattered against the pane loudly, a raging symphony of the Gods. Sunny kept thinking of the silence she had felt when she had met Paul; it was intoxicating, even as it faded. She craved the man's presence more than anything and she could feel every fiber of her being reaching out for him blindly. It was hard to believe, but the numbers and voices and emotions all felt like background noise compared to his memory. _Maybe that's why I'm so obsessed with finding him,_ she thought vaguely to herself. She didn't dwell on this thought too much. It usually led her to the more human side of her mind and she didn't like that part of herself very much.

The one thing she enjoyed most about her window seat was the view. The curtains were always pulled back to reveal her backyard, where beyond the low metal chain link fence was a dense forest. The dark greens and browns of the scenery had always insighted a sort of longing inside of her. She wasn't sure why. She wasn't exactly a fan of hiking, or sight seeing. In fact, she wasn't really a fan of anything. She just sort of...existed. Not many would think so, but simply just existing was painful. Even though she would never know what it felt like to be truly human, she knew that it would be just as lonely if she did. A life without substance or meaning was boring felt void of truth.

Staring out into the depths of her forest, she wondered what Paul was doing.

Just as she pondered this, a flash of silver whisked behind the front row of trees.

* * *

Paul was furious. Rage coursed through him like a dam had broken inside of him and in the back of his mind somewhere, he could hear his brothers and sisters calling out to him. They were all background noise compared to the burning fire tearing at the last bits of his control and sanity.

Someone had been following him the other night and he had felt their presence like a ton of bricks on his shoulders ever since. Patrols, those endless nights lying on Sam's couch; ever since then, he had felt it. And this time - he had caught it. It had been just in her periphery. A flash of black, the rustling of leaves. Just enough to set off an alarm in his head that sent him running blindly after it.

And he could see it now. It raced ten feet in front of him, just out of his reach. It was a silhouette of an indistinguishable gender wearing a pair of running shoes. It ran ahead with confidence - like it knew Paul wouldn't catch it. It didn't even bother to look back in fear. This enraged Paul more than the stalking.

He tore through the world and it felt endless. Suddenly he didn't know the forest anymore. It felt foreign under his paws. The universe felt reborn around him, completely new and untouched by the madness that had consumed him for what felt like eternity. He was no stranger to rage but the kind that pulsed through his veins was more potent, more dangerous; it was filled with purpose. Nothing was more powerful than purpose, he decided in that short moment.

 _Paul, there's nothing there! You're seeing shit!_

 _He's gone batshit, man. Someone go get Sam._

 _He's with -_

 _But -_

 _I don't -_

 _Jared - get Jared! Fuck, just get someone who can handle Paul!_

The thoughts rambled on through his mind but he didn't stop. The madness would end, whether or not he lived through it. Whatever had been following him knew why this was happening and it could stop it - he knew it. He could feel it. He would wait to hear its explanation before he ripped it to shreds.

All of a sudden, his stalker took a hard right and Paul nearly ran into a tree trying to follow. He narrowly avoided it, however, ready to continue his pursuit until he realized that he could no longer do so. The figure was gone; it had vanished into the open air. Paul stood on the brink of a forest, staring at a two story house resting atop a hill. Beyond it, he could see the empty streets of a desolate neighborhood.

With a sickening sadness, he realized what had happened.

He had been _led_ here.

A familiar scent was just sinking into the air around him and he let his gaze follow his nose. He found himself staring up at a window, and in this window was a dark-haired girl with freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were hazel.

He knew the loneliness on her face too well, and a few feet in front of him, the empty shoes mocked him.

* * *

 **A/n:** Sorry about the long wait! I started school about three weeks ago, and the last two weeks of summer I had to rush to finish my summer assignments. I managed to finish my homework before midnight so I figured I'd update this story. I'll do my best to be more diligent with these chapters - I really do enjoy writing this story.

Read & Review, as always! I'm always happy to hear what you think.

(PS: the songs that I post with these chapters are usually what I listen to as I write them. I highly recommend that you listen to them - for the sake of the story and your enjoyment!)


	6. Chapter VI: Paul's Inescapable Fate

**_Flutter._**

* * *

 _"Cause if I don't know then I don't know, but I may know someone who knows me more than I - and if I somehow could rest this soul, maybe control could find its way back into my life"_ _ **-Curl Up And Die, Relient K.**_

 **Chapter VI: Paul's Inescapable Fate.**

Sunny had never felt any particular way about animals. Clark owned a petting zoo, so she had certainly been around them enough to have formed some sort of opinion on them - or, at least, one would think so. But animals were harder than humans to care about because their lives were so fleeting. Sunny needed at least a solid decade to get attached to someone.

But this wolf, paused at the edge of the forest with brown eyes turned up towards her, she couldn't help but feel like she knew it somehow. Just like before, she was groping around in her mind for the missing piece; the absence that was rarely ever felt. She squinted her eyes, trying to make sense of it, when it hit her.

The wolf didn't have a number.

Her thoughts came to a screeching halt as the pieces connected in her mind. And it stared right back; because it knew. _He_ knew. He recognized her too, and he had felt the very same thing she had. The inexplicable pull they felt towards each other. Sunny knew in that moment they both sought the same thing: silence. There was a fire burning in those brown eyes and suddenly, she felt as if she was back in the grocery store parking lot, meeting him for the first time. The world was spinning and it wouldn't stop and she realized, it hadn't ever really began. Just like her - she had no beginning and no end.

Her life was one huge middle but as she gazed at this large silver wolf she knew that he was the same. These two beings - so separate that the distance wasn't palpable - were universes in their own way and they were colliding for what felt like the very first time. All Sunny could think of to do was walk downstairs and outside and open the backgate.

Her heart was racing and it occurred to her that adrenaline was coursing through her. Life was going and going and going and now it wasn't stopping for her anymore. She watched the silver beast saunter towards her back gate, revealing just truly how big it was; it was hard to associate it with Paul. Somewhere, under all that fur and animal brawn, was the man she had met all those weeks ago.

He stopped at the threshold and sat back on his haunches. His head tilted up, and he stared down at her with a borderline baleful gaze. She bit down hard on her bottom lip before speaking. "Are you here for me?" She asked. The silence was refreshing; the voices and the numbers and the emotions were gone and she felt blissfully alone in her thoughts. A tentative smile began to turn the corners of her lips up.

Just as suddenly as the silver wolf had been there, it was gone. In place was Paul, looking angrier and more tired than ever but there he was, staring at her with smoldering brown eyes. She didn't even care that he was naked. She gestured back to her house, "Come on. My dad probably has a pair of shorts that'll fit you."

He didn't reply, but merely followed.

As she led him to Bonnie and Clark's bedroom she couldn't help but revel at the situation; it only made sense that he wasn't human. No human could have possibly escaped their number, their time. There was a clock ticking over everyone's head and the hand turned back for no mortal.

She dug through Clark's neatly packed drawers and chose a pair of grey sweatpants with a drawstring, and handed them to Paul. He was silent and stoic and ever so intimidating; however, the deep purple marks under his eyes spoke volumes. As he stepped into the sweatpants and adjusted them accordingly, she watched his face. He kept it rigid, only shifting his gaze from her to the floor and back. His jaw was set tight and the nervous tension was visible in the veins in his neck and temples. He was on the end of his wits - she could see it.

"Paul," she said, reaching out to grasp his forearm. He jolted away immediately, however, and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. Sunny bit her lip and mirrored his position, ignoring the pang of emotion that hit her when he had retracted from her touch. "There's a reason why we're here together. And I think we both hold our own pieces to the puzzle."

For the first time since he'd shown up, Paul spoke. "I was led here."

"By who?"

"A hallucination."

Sunny nodded slowly, drinking that in. His subconscious had led him here, and by the looks of it, he didn't exactly know why. "Alright. You subconsciously ended up here. That's...alright. That's not the weirdest thing about all of this." And she wasn't saying that to be nice either. The weirdest thing of this all was the fact that somehow, out of everyone in the entire world, a werewolf had been the one to awaken the human emotions in her. A negative plus a negative equals a positive, as they as; in this case, a nonhuman plus a nonhuman equals something human.

"What's the weirdest thing?" He asked this almost accusingly with narrowed eyes.

She let her arms drop to her sides and let out a deep sigh. "You don't have a number."

"A what?"

"A number."

"I don't know what the fuck that is. This isn't a fucking joke."

Sunny shook her head at him. "I'm not joking. You don't have a number. I see numbers, Paul. Everyone in this entire world has a number, before they're even a thought. When someone is born into this world they have a number and it doesn't change. But you - _you_ don't have a number."

Paul's expression didn't change but the light of curiosity lit in his eyes. "Numbers?"

She nodded. "Yeah, numbers. Numbers that represent how long someone lives."

"You aren't...human."

"My body is, but I'm not."

The silence that ensued was one that made Sunny uncomfortable. She'd never told anyone about the numbers besides Bonnie and Clark, and like most things did, it went right over their heads. Paul was the first competent being to really know what was going on with her. It was strangely freeing but still nerve-wracking; his stoic coldness towards everything wasn't giving her a good read on what was going on in his head. Wringing her hands together behind her back now, she said, "You're not human either."

Paul shook his head slowly. "No...I'm not. I was before."

Relief flooded Sunny; she'd at least gotten an answer out of him. She let out a sigh and stepped forward tentatively, once again reaching for his arm. He tensed but didn't jerk away this time, and with gentle fingers she pried it away from his chest and slid her hand down until it held his loosely.

She looked up at his forever brooding face and although he was a million miles away from her, she could feel the ice around his heart melting, just as hers was. They weren't headed in any particular direction but she knew wherever they were going, they were going together. The itching sadness that had once choked her was shamefully at bay, along with the numbers and the voices and everything else. She almost felt...human.

It was both relieving and disconcerting.

And so, Death took the lonely wolf under her wing and together they began their journey.

* * *

 **A/n:** Hey there! And so they finally reunite, haha. I managed to update a little faster this time thankfully! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

As always, read and review! Feedback inspires me and encourages me to write more :)


	7. Chapter VII: Paths Converged

_**Flutter.**_

* * *

 _"He said, 'If you spend all your heart on something that has died, you are not alive - and that can't be your life'; love what you can, love what you can til it dies. Then let it lie, let it fly away"_ _ **-White Face, Black Eyes, Andrew Jackson Jihad.**_

 **Chapter VII: Paths Converged.**

Paul wasn't accustomed to existing without loneliness. He kept searching for the gaping hole; kept waiting for the whistle of wind through the hollows of his chest. It'd been two days since he had found Sunny and he hadn't left her side since, and this both delighted and angered him at the same time. The discomfort she felt in her human body was evident and he found comfort in the awkward way she existed. It was a strange sensation, not hating someone. He hadn't felt this way since before he'd joined the pack. Paul didn't feel like himself.

Sunny was staring out her window at the usual overcast skies. She did this a lot; she said she didn't know why. She had told him everything - or, at least, that's what it seemed. _"The numbers, the emotions, the voices - they're always buzzing around in this skull of mine. It's constant and sometimes I feel like I can't even breathe. And then, I remember, breathing is something this body needs - not something_ I _need."_ She had explained, and then went on to say, _"You know, Paul, I thought I was alone in this world. I thought that maybe I was exiled from wherever I was before. But...you're here. And that's got me to thinking that maybe I'm right where I'm supposed to be."_

Paul wasn't stupid. He knew that he brought her the same silence she brought him. They were feeding off one another and neither of them were strong enough to resist the inexplicable pull. He was lying on her mattress with his hands folded behind his head, staring up at her ceiling. It didn't have any popcorns; it was smooth and white. If she wasn't here, that would've driven him crazy.

"Remember how you said you wished for death all the time when you first phased?" A hint of amusement was given away by her suppressed smile, and he narrowed his eyes at her and nodded. "Well...I mean, you got it. Technically. I _am_ Death."

"Shut the fuck up," He growled, but found he couldn't keep the smile off his face. He despised that she had that effect on him; he despised that he couldn't hate her, no matter how hard he tried. Part of him was always pushing back against his fate, the same fate that surely would have always led him to her. It occurred, more than once, that this was just like phasing. It was inescapable - just like everything else. He would never be free to live as he wanted; he would never be free to even _know_ how to live as he wanted. He just...couldn't catch a break.

"Don't you think your pack is wondering where you are?" Asked Sunny.

"Fuck them."

"Inbreeding usually doesn't result in strong children. Be careful."

He sat up, a scowl on his face. "Don't be an asshole, Sunny. You know what I mean."

Sunny sighed, the smirk falling from her face. She turned her face back to the window as she spoke. "I don't want you to go but they're going to come looking for you sooner or later. And besides - Bonnie and Clark aren't going to believe the new neighbor story forever. Things are going to fall apart anytime now."

She was right. The pack would be bound to track him here eventually and her parents would eventually realize that he didn't just move in down the street. He was sure they barely believed it now; wariness weighed heavy on their scents when Sunny had explained his presence two days ago.

"I'm not going." Was all he could think of to say.

"You have to," she replied in a snipped tone.

The wolf bustled under his skin and he shoved it back down. "No, I don't have to. I don't do anything I don't want to do." He argued uselessly. She was right and he was having a hard time accepting that; it wasn't often that Paul even acknowledged anyone else's opinions, much less thought they were _right._

"Then what do you suppose is going to happen? We'll never see each other again if your pack has to drag you back kicking and screaming like a baby and Bonnie and Clark realize what is actually going on." Sunny turned back around to face him, a fire in her eyes that could match his own. He'd began to see that since he got here two days ago; something akin to pride swelled in his chest at that. Perhaps his stubborn and volatile nature had finally paid off somewhere.

"I don't fucking know," He seethed, nevertheless.

Sunny stood from her window sill seat and crossed the room to her mattress, grasping Paul's shoulders and all but forcing him to look into her eyes. "What can I do to convince you to go back?" She asked, an expression that proved the truth of her words. And there, staring at her with his wolf trembling beneath his skin, longing to break free, and the biting absence of loneliness in his heart, he realized that the solution was simple.

"Come with me."

He expected hesitation. He expected the fire in her eyes to recede and her expression to falter. However, it all only seemed to rise; Sunny was rising to the occasion, rising to meet Paul like no one else had. "Alright then, I'll go with you."

It then occurred to Paul that Sunny was just like him. She had no one; she was surrounded by people, and yet, she had no one. She had proved in more ways than one that they were the same - but somehow, this one took the cake. The part of Paul that had been fighting this fate was suddenly backed respectfully away in its corner. He had found the one who would tune the broken strings inside of him - and, perhaps, he could tune a few himself.

* * *

 **A/n:** Hey guys! Before anyone asks, I just want to clarify that Sunny and Paul's relationship isn't necessarily romantic - not yet, anyway. One has to remember that these are two very damaged people and they're going to feel around before they settle. I'm sorry if I missed any typos, it's 1 am and I am beyond tired. Let me know if you see any and I'll fix them right away.

Anyway, review! Reviews help influence where I take the story and honestly, I just love hearing feedback (what author doesn't?).


	8. Chapter VIII: Shadow of Chaos

**_Flutter._**

* * *

 _"All those sleepless nights and all those wasted days. I wish loneliness would leave me but I think it's here to stay, what more can I do? I'm wringing myself dry and I can't afford to lose one more teardrop from my eye"_ _ **-Too Afraid To Love You, The Black Keys.**_

 **Chapter VIII: The Shadow of Chaos in Paradise.**

Sunny had been washing her face when it happened. It was around seven a.m. and Paul was still fast asleep in her room, but she had risen to prepare to meet a pack of disgruntled werewolves. After splashing some cold water on her face and scrubbing an apricot-scented wash over it, she glanced up into the mirror and caught a glimpse of a black mass moving behind the shower curtain. Aside from the initial jump of fear of not being as alone as she thought she was, Sunny felt nothing; Death, after all, had nothing to fear. She was the be all of end all.

Scrubbing the rest of the wash from her face, she quickly dried it and stalked over to the shower. The curtain showed no sign of movement now and the bathroom was silent, but Sunny knew what she'd seen. With hesitation in her movement, she curled her fingers around the end of the plastic curtain and gripped it so hard that her knuckles turned bone white. She waited a few moments before, with great enough force to knock the shower rod down, whipped the curtain open. And standing there, right before her eyes, was a great big emptiness. Morning light streamed in through the diluted glass of the window and there was nothing there.

Sunny bit down on her lip and she tried to process the situation. There was a horrible ache in her head all of a sudden, one that hadn't been present since she'd been with Paul. Blinking hard a few times, she readjusted the shower curtain and opened up the medicine cabinet, yanking out the almost-empty bottle of pain killers. She downed what was left of them dry and began to leave her bathroom.

Her bare foot hit something cold and wet and she immediately jolted away. The migraine had hit her so hard this time that she felt dizzy; she stumbled back into the counter, trying to get her eyes to focus on whatever it was her foot had touched. When her vision finally came into focus, however, she was confused; it was a pair of soaked sneakers. They faced her, as if someone had just been standing in them. She couldn't think of anything to do but call for Paul.

She heard him roll off her mattress with a groan and struggle to get off the floor. The sound of his feet against the dense wood flooring was near comforting; she felt unsettled and even a little scared. The bathroom door swung open and if she hadn't been Death herself, she would have thought he was; there were deep dark circles under his eyes and his scowl was nastier than ever. "This is the second time I've got to sleep in the last month. _What_ do you want?"

She gestured down to the sneakers. "Are these yours?" The question was stupid, because Paul never wore shoes, or any clothes for that matter, and they hadn't been there when she had arrived in the bathroom this morning. Another human tendency was shining through her inhuman apathy: denial.

"Oh, _fuck,_ " Paul growled, broad shoulder hitting the door molding with a low thump. "The fucking stalker was _real."_

"What?"

The tired werewolf scrubbed a hand over his face, and he met her eyes as he spoke. "Remember how when I first got here, I said something about being led to you?"

"Yeah, your subconscious led you here."

"No, that's what I figured. Right before I went crazy and ran over here, I started seeing this guy - or, thing, what the fuck ever - follow me. Whenever I'd turn around though it would just be these shoes, staring up at me." Paul looked as if his world had been shattered and Sunny felt a pang of empathy. Their paradise had been crashed by some lurking shadow stalker who had a weird thing about leaving sneakers all over the place.

"At least we can conclude you weren't seeing things."

"At this point, I wish I had been seeing things."

Sunny pressed a hand against her forehead, trying to will away the growing pain. She felt Paul's warm hand on her wrist as he pried away her own, and he began to lead her out of the bathroom. "If you're not feeling well enough, we can wait to go meet the pack."

"I'd rather not have a bunch of werewolves showing up on my doorstep," Sunny said with an edge of hysteria in her voice; she didn't remember the pain ever being this bad before. "So let's just go today and get it over with. Holy _hell,_ my head hurts." Before she knew it, they were back in her room and he was shutting the door behind them. Bonnie and Clark would be rising soon and probably coming in to check on them. They were assuming the worst of Paul and Sunny's relationship, as most humans do when it comes to things they don't understand.

"Did you take all of your pain killers?" Paul asked, helping her to the window seat.

"I took the last of them," she hissed, feeling as if her skull was cracking in half; the voices were louder than ever and the emotions just as strong. She reached out blindly for Paul and her fingers found his face, and they traveled further to the back of his neck and pulled his forehead down to meet hers. He emanated warmth and safety and the pain receded, but not much. There was a horrible aching feeling in her gut as she realized that Paul was not her cure-all. His presence no longer silenced the noise inside her head. She felt betrayed; she felt subdued before a life that was never meant for her. Despite this, however, she held him close. He no longer brought silence but he brought a semblance of peace, and that's something she would take.

"The pack can wait one more goddamn day." She felt two strong arms embrace her and suddenly she was no longer upright, but on her side and encased in warmth. "You and me are gonna take a nap and then we'll figure out when we're going. Let's hope your parents don't flip their shit when they see us like this."

Sunny felt far too disoriented to reply so she settled for disconcerted mumbling; the only thing that really felt clear was the safety she felt with Paul. And as she faded off into a slumber, there was spark of emotion in her chest.

And so the wolf lay with Death, drifting through the world peacefully.

* * *

 **A/n:** Sunny is completely out of it and Paul is choosing to run from his problems - things are getting pretty good, if I do say so myself. Sorry I took a little longer to get this chapter posted, school has been really busy! I finally found some peace and managed to sit down and write this, lol.

But anyway, I'd like to thank all of those who reviewed :) I appreciate it a lot and I encourage you to keep on it! It makes my heart sing when I see what you guys have to say.


	9. Chapter IX: No God's Muse

_**Flutter.**_

* * *

 _"There's a truth that we once knew and no longer can fear; they could take all our heroes, imprison each last one – but it's a spirit, so resilient, some things never come undone"_ _ **–Peacemaker, Koji.**_

 **Chapter IX: No God's Muse.**

Darkness and filmy colors twisted through Sunny's subconscious mind, and Paul watched as her jaw shifted and her brow furrowed. His limbs felt alight with tension; they were not alone in this room anymore. The room that had once been void and empty of any real human life was now rigged with live wires sending signals to Paul's sensitive senses. The instinct to get them out of there was thrashing from within him, threatening to let out the wolf and tear the walls down. But he couldn't do that; not to her.

Shadows bounced off the walls in the corner of his eyes. A low growl began deep inside his chest, and the tension in his limbs became so tight and taut that they began twitching. Each movement rattled him, straight to the marrow of his bones. He was doing his best to be wary of Death, who slept soundlessly in his arms. She was not responding to the tautness of his body, and that made Paul think that perhaps he looked and seemed more composed than he was. He let out a deep breath, trying to relieve his muscles.

But just as he did this, a stinging touch ghosted over his bare shoulder and a voice hissed in his ear, _"She is no God."_

Tremors rolled down Paul's spine and he sprung from his spot. Deep, rattling breaths wracked his body and he whipped his head all around the room, animal eyes filled with rage and fear. Sunny awoke slowly, looking up at him with a strange gaze. "What are you doing?"

"I fucking heard someone," Paul hissed, fighting off the familiar prickling of his skin.

"You heard someone?"

"Someone _whispered_ in my fucking ear. Sunny, I have to get the _hell_ out of here. This-this room is fucking –"Sweat was beginning to dew on his forehead and roll down his face, and every cord in his neck was protruding. Sunny fumbled to her feet, pushing both palms against Paul and shoving him towards the door.

"Go, Paul. Get out of here right now!" She followed him out the door, pushing him down the hallway and the stairs, and even when he had barreled through the kitchen like a madman she sprinted after him. There was a breathless hurry in her chest; she was scared that if he left her sight, her peace would be gone. She watched with no air in her lungs as he convulsed, deformity chiseling his anatomy. There was a deafening roar as the creature reared into the air on its hind legs, and then noisily fell to its front paws. Sunny could only stare; she had never felt such an emotion before. The wolf gazed back at her with crazed eyes, as if it was having trouble recognizing her.

"Paul –"she breathed, "Paul, please don't go. Not without me."

Sunny had never felt more human. She felt as if she was grasping for him, fingers slowly slipping. She stared at him – she stared and stared and stared. The creature was just as it had been the first time she had laid eyes on it; silver hair glittering in the rare sunlight, getting tussled in a passing breeze. Sunny groped for the disassociation in her thoughts; the telltale carelessness that proved to her that she was not a human. However it seemed that this sword was bone deep.

Those wild animalistic eyes turned away from her and the silver, glittering creature retreated into the woods. Sunny watched it – _him_ \- go. A familiar ache spread like an advanced affliction in her chest, and once again, she felt bitter and lonely sadness climb her spine. The voices and numbers were distorted and loud and her head pounded; they were a force to be reckoned with.

Death watched her muse go with sorrow heavy on her heart.

* * *

Paul once again felt a hole in his chest. As he ran, he could feel the wind passing through him, leaving his insides cold and frail. His paws thundered against the ground, so hard that a few nails came loose and left bloody wounds at the ends of his toes. A harsh whimper came from the back of his throat; he was pleading with himself, trying to convince his wolf to turn back for her. The man was lost in his thoughts – he could not hear his packmates yelling to him.

 _Where the hell have you been?_

 _What the hell, Paul?_

 _Paul, calm the FUCK down!_

 _Someone go stop him, he's going to hurt himself!_

Hazel eyes gazed down at him from an upstairs window and he could have wept. He was losing his mind; he had not felt loneliness in what felt like an eternity. It embraced him like an old familiar friend, latching on to him for dear life. He could count the freckles across the bridge of her nose, much like he would count the popcorns upon Sam's ceiling when his eyes refused to close. And now he could never go back to this time; he could never return to their world they had discovered together. The voice had been right – Sunny was no God.

He had known from the beginning but this realization hit him harder than a semi. And funnily enough, he found himself soaring through the air, opposite of the way he had been running. There was a sharp, aching pain in his left side and the breath had left his lungs. The ground approached him, refusing to accommodate his body. He landed hard, hard enough to feel bruises begin to bloom under his flesh.

The universe was spiraling and all he could think of was hazel eyes and wet sneakers.

* * *

 **A/n:** It's been quite a while since I've updated this story and I'm really sorry! Life happened and I graduated from high school but everything is all good now, so I have time to write. It's super early in the morning and I haven't slept yet so please enjoy this chapter, and expect another soon.

Please review, I'd love to hear from everyone again!


	10. Chapter X: Death's Prerogative

_**Flutter.**_

* * *

" _I would sleep better on your floor than I would ever in my bed, and if your carpet makes my face itch it'd still be heaven in my head"_ _ **–Jim Bogart, The Front Bottoms.**_

 **Chapter X: Death's Prerogative.**

Sunny sat at her window seat, gazing out in to the treeline. Downstairs, she could hear Bonnie and Clark in the kitchen, and a brief sense of normalcy settled her ragged heart. She let her forehead fall against the window pane and let out a deep sigh, running the events that had transpired the day before play like a cinematic in her mind. It seemed to be the only thing that drowned out the deafening voices anymore; had they always been this bad?

She wanted for that creature that had sent Paul into a panic to come back. She wanted to ask it why; why it had chosen to disturb her peace. She usually didn't get backlash from any otherworldly creatures, mostly because she was Death and most feared her. It was strange to think that one of them had the gall – it gave her a feeling of disorder. Something was off in her universe and it was beginning to burn a hole through the fabric of her tedious life.

"Sun, do you want to come down and eat some dinner?"

"No."

She didn't need to see Bonnie to know that there was a scathing expression on her face. The woman closed the door and stomped down the hallway, and she closed her eyes as she heard the thunderous steps down the stairs. Humans were so trivial; Sunny felt a million miles away from Bonnie and Clark, unable to muster the hint of human in herself to force herself downstairs. She had spent all of that on Paul, and she felt as if she still was. The sadness clung to her like a sickness in the cold of winter.

Sunny found herself missing him – she found herself wondering how long ago she had seen him, and then wondering why it felt so long ago. He had been her peace; a quiet voice in a universe of shrieks. Before Paul she had focused on existing on a day to day basis. She had been living on a cloud, albeit a gloomy one, before him. That cloud had dissipated and she had fallen much like Lucifer fell from Heaven.

An uneasy feeling settled over her and a shiver rattled her spine. She attributed this to the chilling way Paul had looked at her the day before; his eyes were piercing. She kept thinking of him, his silver fur and harsh, animalistic stare and then thinking of his copper skin and his soft touch against her skin, and the way he spoke. Something warm and wet rolled down her face as a hand grasped her shoulder.

Sunny did not have time to look back; she slumped against the wall as she was engulfed in black.

* * *

Paul once again was lying on Sam's couch and staring up at the ceiling. The popcorns felt like a familiar friend; he greeted them with a number, doing his best to keep his mind from the previous day. Sam was livid with him – wouldn't let Paul step foot out of his house either. It had been a miserable day so far; a miserable day that wouldn't ever end. Even after Jacob had run him down yesterday, he could not close his eyes.

Sleep had left him once again, but he figured it was a fair pay for leaving Sunny.

His counting slowed and a long sigh left his lungs. He had to remind himself that she was Death and that she was most often unfeeling. The time he had spent with her had led him to believe that perhaps she was unperturbed by the outside world; she seemed carefree around him. He knew differently, of course. She suffered at the expense of her human emotions, and while she had never said that directly to him he could make out the disgust on her face when she felt something.

Paul was no stranger to disgust; he received disgusted looks from all of La Push and most of the Pack. However, it was different with Sunny. She never looked at him like that – every time those hazel eyes would turn on to him, the universe would settle like a boat leaving a storm. He felt peace with her; peace, and a certain closeness that he could not explain. He shared a mind with tons of others like him but none of them reached through him like Death.

"Paul."

Sam's voice still burned with anger and Paul looked to him with a placid expression.

"You need to tell me where you went."

Sam crossed the room till he was standing in the middle of it, the top of his head about an inch away from the ceiling fan. Paul stared at him, contemplating whether or not it was something worth telling his alpha. He must've spent a little too long doing this, because Sam let out an impatient growl and said, "That wasn't a question. It was an order. Tell me where you went."

Did he think Paul was all alone on his week long journey? After a moment of thought, he supposed his alpha probably did. It was unlike Paul to want to be around anyone and everyone knew so. The wolf pondered his words a little more before he decided to say something.

"I went on a vacation."

That answer didn't please Sam at all. The alpha's baritone voice cut through Paul like a knife. " _You will tell me where you went. You are not a child, Paul – you play too many games."_

Paul was forced to sit up and face him full on. He dug his fingers into the cushion of the couch, feeling the command take over his body with a deep ache in his chest. "Olympia. I went to – I fucking went to Olympia to find her." A shudder shook Paul's shoulders as his wolf began to rise to the surface again. His skin prickled and his limbs were on fire.

"To find who?"

Through all of this, Paul smirked. "Death."

* * *

 **A/n:** It feels like a miracle that I somehow updated this soon. Please review, as always, and maybe expect another chapter soon? I seem to be on a roll.


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